


one hundred things to do with your body when you're all alone

by libraralien



Category: Pump Up the Volume (1990)
Genre: Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:30:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libraralien/pseuds/libraralien
Summary: Hard Harry gives in and jerks off on air, and he doesn't fake it this time.





	one hundred things to do with your body when you're all alone

“Once again, we have some poetry courtesy of the Eat Me, Beat Me Lady. And can I just say, this one is the filthiest yet. I think listening to me is driving her into depravity. Or maybe she was already depraved, and I have just lit up those dark, sticky corners of her mind. I'd like to think we are corrupting each other, really. But I digress! We should show the lady some respect, not all of us go out of our way to commit our masturbatory fantasies to page for the enjoyment of others. So the least we can all do is honor her effort but touching ourselves as I read tonight’s poem. Here we go:

_I want to cum to your voice again and again_

_And I want it person_

_I want the only reason you shut up to be_

_Because your mouth is on my pussy"_

He shifted in his seat. He would never admit it off air, but he did really get worked up by this girl’s poetry. It was a bit overwrought, but so was he. He played up the horny thing for his Hard Harry persona, but it was true that he was going mad with sexual frustration as much as any highschooler. He pressed his palm on his erection over his jeans.

_"Instead all I have to fuck for another night_

_Is your voice"_

He had considered it, actually doing it; everybody thought he jacked off on air anyway. As far as his audience was concerned, it wouldn’t be anything new.

_"I stick my hand down my panties_

_In another fit of teenage frustration_

_Maybe if I cum hard enough_

_It will destroy everything around me"_

He paused before saying, "Well, I don't know about you, but Hard Harry is very much living up to his name right now. In fact-"

He held the mic to his crotch as he slowly unzipped his jeans.

“You heard that folks, once again I am about to give into my sickest urges on air. I started the show clothed tonight, hoping it would help me resist, but I’m just too sick. I hope you are proud of yourself, Eat Me, Beat Me Lady,” he said, leaning over his mic as he worked his dick out of his boxers

“Harry is extra worked up tonight, folks,” he said holding the mic up with one hand, the other pumping between his legs, “In fact, I encourage you to join me. That’s right, give into those hormonal urges, touch yourself, join Hard Harry in this perverted act. I know some of you must have gotten as turned on by the poetry of the Eat Me, Beat Me Lady as I did. I know some of you listen with friends, so maybe now is the time to test the limits of that friendship. Hell, if there are a bunch of you, have an orgy!”

It was hard to concentrate while rambling, but he didn’t want to leave dead air, so he began moaning and panting as much as he could. He knew he had an audience, he wondered how many were taking his suggestion.

Up until now, it had all been a show, he had been entertaining. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t actually jacked off on air. Now that he was doing it, it was such a thrill. Hundreds of people, raptly listening to him beat his meat, and hopefully doing so themselves. He always got a small thrill out of walking around school, hearing somebody talk about Hard Harry, not knowing he was standing right there. But tomorrow, he was going to be thinking about how many pussies he had gotten wet and how many dicks he had gotten hard, and nobody but him would know. The thought of him gave him a surge of arousal and he gave another loud moan into the mic.

"I want you to know that I'm imagining all you out there right now: prissy girls who have never touched themselves nervously lifting their skirts to slip a hesitant hand into their panties, just needing a little encouragement to give it a try...guys who were already jacking off from Our Lady's saucy poetry not stopping now that it's just old Harry moaning and talking, concerned what this might mean for their sexuality...friends in a car glancing at each other, unsure of what they should do, squirming in their seats with arousal…Oh god, I'm getting close, folks! Hard Harry can't hold out much longer."

He didn't say so, but most of all he imagined her, his muse, the Eat Me, Beat Me Lady. Hell, she was probably having a wild time, getting off listening to him get off to her writing. She was probably lying there in her room, shamelessly naked, furiously humping her own hands.

He moaned noisily as he came, spilling onto his hand and exposed stomach, and shocking even himself with the force of his orgasm. He lost all sense for a moment and was unable to say anything into the mic besides panting. After a moment, he regained a degree of awareness and started talking again.

"I hope that was a good for all you as it was for me," he said, still out of breath, "I'm glad we could all share this moment. Please, continue with your masturbation and fornication and various other experimentation with lewd acts while Harry cleans himself. Cleaning only physically of course; don't you worry, my mind is as dirty as ever. And don't forget to write or call in to let Hard Harry know what new depths of depravity I've encouraged you to. Until next time, stay hard."


End file.
